


Too Much

by QQI25



Category: Deadpool - All Media Types, Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Gen, Sensory Overload
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-22
Updated: 2019-12-22
Packaged: 2021-02-26 00:28:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 5,164
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21904477
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/QQI25/pseuds/QQI25
Summary: Peter'd already had times where he felt overwhelmed by all the sensory input, and it only gets worse with his Spidey powers.
Relationships: Peter Parker & Wade Wilson
Comments: 2
Kudos: 78





	1. Peter

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [Spideypool Ficlet Collection](https://archiveofourown.org/works/16857568) by [SymbioteSpideypool](https://archiveofourown.org/users/SymbioteSpideypool/pseuds/SymbioteSpideypool). 



> This is inspired by chapter 662!
> 
> The title is from Carly Rae Jepsen's "Too Much", which really doesn't have to do with this work at all, except I wrote the fic and I'm obsessed with CRJ.

Sensory overload is a bitch on a good day. Peter’d already had days where everything got too much, and that just gets amplified with the powers. He tries to monitor the things that get to him or set him off, but he can only control so much of his environment. There was that one time they were building something on campus and he barely slept. He goes into restaurants when he doesn’t think it’s that bad and is hit with all the smells; it’s so fucking overwhelming he can barely stay long enough to order take out. He buys stuff from certain stores and they just have a Smell, so he’s taken to making his own cleaning solution (it’s simpler and cheaper) and being extra careful of where he buys things. Living in a city of course, is also painful, with the nonstop noises and lights.

He almost cries the night he finds the telephone booth. It’s at a dump, which for sure means no one wants it, which means it’s his for the taking. He stops home for a bottle of his cleaner and a rag, and then drags it to the Avengers Tower.

“Hey Tony, can I use one of your showers?” He _knows_ Tony has fancy big ones. 

“Yeah. You know which floor to go to. Just try not to destroy anything with that,” Tony says. He’s seen weirder stuff. Peter goes up and heads for a bathroom. 

In the bathroom, he hoses the booth down, taking advantage of his wall-crawling ability to get the top too. He sprays cleaner on the rag and starts to rub the booth down. When he’s done, he decides to leave behind the cleaner with a note that says “Here’s a homemade cleaner thank me later. Don’t spend money on an unnecessary amount of different cleaners you don’t need. I can teach you how to make it or you can just tell me when you run out! - your local broke college student” Seriously. It was life-saving when he’d found out you don’t _ac_ tually need a different cleaner for each room and surface. 

Once he’s deemed it clean enough and dried it, he takes it and the rag back to his place. The box finds its home in a corner of his room. He starts affectionately dubbing it his vampire box, because coffin would be taking it a bit too far. It’s a tiny reprieve from all the chaos and data of the world, and it’s nearly perfect after he splurges on noise-cancelling headphones (that are rarely used to listen to music). 

Usually, being out is made a tad bit more bearable by the fact that he doesn’t have a companion. That changes when he meets Deadpool. They’re both called by the Avengers to help out in another fight against aliens, and they end up assisting each other a few times. At the debrief too, they end up sitting next to each other. 

“So,” Deadpool says when they’ve been dismissed, “you come here often?” 

“As often as they need me.”

“Mmm, vague. I like that. I’m a really big fan of you Spider-Man, except the plagiarism.”

“What plagiarism?”

“Um”, Deadpool gestures at his suit, “what do you mean, ‘what plagiarism?’ I’m pretty sure I was around first.”

“I’m pretty sure I wasn’t thinking of you when I created this because I didn’t know you existed,” Peter counters. 

“No fair. Everyone always thinks I’m you even though I was around first, and now you’re saying you didn’t know about me?” Peter can hear a pout in his voice, and it makes him smile. 

“I know you now, don’t I?”

“Yeah about that . . . do you wanna get to know each other better? That’s not a euphemism unless you want it to be. Our pal-ios the Avengers kinda are still wary of me and I think they think I need a babysitter? Fair, I guess, as I _was_ in the whole unaliving business for a while and they’re only okay with unaliving done and approved by them. Even if the unaliving I did usually consisted of pieces as shit like repeat rapists and murderers, especially those targeting minorities,” Deadpool finishes under his breath. Peter likes him a lot now. Sure, he doesn’t prefer to “unalive” people himself, but he’s at that point in life where he’s unsure of how to deal with repeat offenders who don’t learn (besides upheaving all these -isms and -phobias which requires a systemic, cultural change), and he’s supportive of people who do what they can in the ways they think they can best help. 

“Sure, why not? Wanna exchange numbers so I can tell you when and where I’ll start patrol?”

“OMG! Spider-Man wants to exchange numbers! Damn, this is the best day! First I get to meet you, and second we’re exchanging numbers because third we’re gonna be patrolling together!” 

Deadpool is loud. He is loud and brash and outspoken. It gets too much for Peter at times. Everything piles up and it’s just made worse by Deadpool talking his ear off. He doesn’t hate Deadpool at all, just doesn’t like all the sensory input he’s getting, especially from so close. But it’s fine. Deadpool’s his friend, and he’s clingy and insecure and Peter doesn’t wanna hurt his feelings. He’ll deal with sensory overload the way he always does: repetitive motions, usually scratching or picking at things and/or his skin when he can. 

And so it goes until one night he notices it’s so bad there’s a _hole_ in his suit and he’s now bleeding. Not a lot, but definitely more than before, when he was _not bleeding at all_. Going out on a limb suddenly feels very appealing, so he waits ‘til it seems like Deadpool’s taking a break. 

“Hey, sorry, could you be quiet for a bit? My head’s killing me.” And really, just like that, Deadpool gives him a thumbs up and stays silent. It’s kind of awkward or freaky or weird, if Peter’s honest, because he’s so used to Wade’s constant chatter. It feels like waiting for the other shoe to drop, like going to the beach at night and looking at the vast expanse of darkness, wondering if anything’s looking back at you. 

After that though, Deadpool’s more in tune with Peter’s body language and more attentive to Peter’s needs. When Peter’s hunched in on himself with his hands interlaced on the back of his head, Deadpool falls quiet. At the end of patrol when Peter seems exhausted, Deadpool chooses a spot where they can lean on something. And they become closer. They learn more about each other, learn names. Deadpool’s Wade Wilson, with alliteration just like his own Peter Parker. It’s not bad at all, actually quite the opposite of bad. He starts feeling so comfortable in fact that he falls asleep on Wade, and he wakes up feeling so rested and relaxed.


	2. Wade

Turns out, life doesn’t have to suck. Proof? Spider-Man works with Wade on an Avengers team up. Spider-Man talks to him. Spider-Man asks for his number. Spider-Man goes on patrols with him. Spider-Man becomes his friend. Spider-Man _tells Wade his name_ —Peter Parker. 

Despite all that, it’s still hard to believe Pete actually wants to be his friend. It’s like, who has stuck around up until this point? Pete’s an anomaly, and he might still leave. So Wade does things for him. He keeps quiet when Pete has a headache (which he later reveals is actually usually due to sensory overload). He goes to the rooftop stairs so they can lean against it when Pete’s feeling exhausted. And the latest development: he lets Pete fall asleep on him. 

Wade doesn’t even realise Pete’s going to fall asleep at first. He’s rambling on about whatever in that low, soft, rumbly way his voice can get because it apparently has a “comforting quality”. Even when Pete’s feeling overwhelmed, he’s taken a liking to that voice because if he tries hard enough, he can focus in on one sound and let the others become very faint background noise, instead of all-consuming background noise. But anyways, yeah, so he’s talking like that, and then the weight against his side increases, like Pete just totally relaxes. He trails off and hears Pete’s soft, slow breathing and knows he’s asleep. He’s asleep. Around Wade. Whom most people can’t even turn their back on because they so mistrust him. He’s just so awestruck he falls absolutely still so as not to wake up Peter. 

When Peter stirs, Wade’s entire left side of his body is numb, but he doesn’t give a fuck. He gives a fuck about the fact that Peter feels safe enough to fall asleep for an hour and a half on Wade, thus letting his guard down and putting his trust in Wade. It’s fine. He’s fine. He’s spent the past hour and a half thinking about things, but mostly just freaking out about how fucking surreal the situation feels. Peter pushes himself up a little, still leaning heavily on Wade, and takes off his mask, so Wade looks away.

“Mmm. Wade? You can look I don’t fucking care. Dude did you just let me fall asleep on you though? Because _that_ I care about. How long has it been?” Except Wade doesn’t process that for a moment, what with a fucking _an_ gel being right in front of him. Pete’s hair is all . . . helmet hair, but like, mask hair, and he’s got like, a little bit of dried drool and he’s rubbing his eyes and he looks fucking perfect. 

“Uhh,” he says snapping himself to attention, “hour and a half?”

“Fuck. What the fuck? And you just let me sleep?” 

“Pete, you barely get sleep. You just looked so exhausted I couldn’t _not_ let you get some sleep for once.” Pete’s hands still and he lowers them with a smile. 

“That’s real sweet of you Wade. Thanks.” 

“‘Course. Anytime,” Wade says. Pete puts his head on Wade’s shoulder and sighs.

“You know, my headaches disappear when you’re around. It’s not even your voice it’s just . . . you. Your presence.”

“Damn. Fuck Pete.” How do you respond to something like that? He laughs. “Now I feel like I’m under pressure.”

“Don’t,” Pete says, sitting up to look at him and resting his hand on Wade’s arm. “Don’t. I know it’s easier said than done, but like. You don’t even hafta _try_ and I feel safe around you. You’re my best friend. Don’t tell anyone but Wade, you don’t set off my Spidey Sense. It’s like, kinda annoying because you can scare me easily and now you’re probably gonna do it more often but. I just need you to know that okay? Like I’m serious. We’re friends. I think of you as my best friend. And I wouldn’t lie about this. Anyways up until we became friends, there was only one thing that would help and it was this telephone booth I found at the dumps. I washed it before bringing it to my place. Come, I’ll show you.” Peter puts his mask back on and stands up, beckoning for Wade to get on his back.

“Okay, don’t laugh but I call it the vampire box.” Pete gestures grandly at the phone booth once he’s taken Wade into his apartment and then into his bedroom. He opens the door and shows Wade how he’s hung some headphones on the wall. 

“They’re actually noise cancelling! Like they actually work! I’m thinking of getting black out curtains too. It could be like a _cave_ , except smaller. Maybe a closet then.” Pete snorts. “Funny. Leave a metaphorical one but feel safe in a literal one. Well, another metaphorical one but what the fuck ever.”

Before their next hangout (and he means hangout not just patrol because that’s a Thing they do now, as friends), Wade goes hunting around for blackout curtains that actually work. He meticulously tests them by holding the curtains up to the lights, to the window. He finds some luckily, because he’s for shit sure not gonna shop around on Amazon. Jeff Bezos can suck his dick, except wait, he doesn’t want that mouth on him. He wants the workers to get an actually living wage and actually humane working conditions. He wants Jeff Bezos to stop being a selfish douchebag and give his money to helping the environment and the people who need it. And shit, he needs to find a rod ~~a big one, if you catch his drift~~ , but it’s gotta be custom cut for the vampire box and it’s gotta fit inside the curtain hole. He gets two rods he can cut down to size himself, and air dry clay to make those stoppers. 

He decides to prepare it all back at his place, because he has the grand idea to surprise Pete with it. Well, then he realises he doesn’t _ac_ tually know the measurements, so he’s gotta wait ‘til after the next time they hang out. There are two bonuses of life as usual: 1, he’s so insecure he prefers wearing his suit and Pete understands, which means he has somewhere to put a measuring tape without being suspicious; and 2, Pete’s poor, which means he can’t buy curtains yet, which means Wade has time to do shit for him. They’re both unfortunate circumstances, but at least they’ve come in handy for once! 

“Can I try going in your vampire box?” Wade looks to Pete, who blushes. 

“Okay you don’t need to call it that,” Pete says hastily. “But yes you can go in it.” Wade shrugs.

“The box has a name and I’m going to respect the box by using that name.” Wade steps inside and closes the door. It honestly doesn’t feel too closed in. He measures across the width, and then the height. After, he puts the tape away and slips on the headphones and _gets_ what Pete means when he says they’re _ac_ tually soundproof. The blackout curtains would just be the cherry on top, darkening it until it’s just himself with his thoughts. Which isn’t necessarily a good thing for _him_ , but for someone like Pete who so easily gets overstimulated, he could see how it would definitely help.

“Isn’t it nice?” Pete gushes when Wade comes out.

“Yeah Petes. Real nice.”

From there, it’s not hard to get the blackout curtain sitch figured out. He gets it all cut and assembled and takes it down to Pete’s apartment the next time he knows Pete has class. He hums to himself as he works, excited. It’s pretty easy, and he’s done before he knows it. All he’s gotta do is wait now, and he goes to the living room and sits on the couch. 

“Oh, hey,” Pete says, visibly startled. “Sorry did we plan something today? I just got done with class.”

“I know,” Wade says cheerily. “And no we didn’t! Follow me!” 

“Uh, okay.” Pete hangs up his coat and brings his backpack with him to his bedroom. 

“Please step into the chamber, my dear sir!” Wade gestures enthusiastically at the vampire box.

“Chamber’s definitely a cool--” Pete cuts himself off with a gasp. “Wade!” Wade can tell he’s tearing up; he gets easily emotional. He cried during a commercial once, and it wasn’t even those super sad dog-at-the-shelter commercials, but he’d covertly swiped at his eyes so Wade hadn’t said anything.

“Is that what you were talking about?” 

“Yes Wade it’s _perf_ ect thank you so much!” He comes back out and hugs Wade tightly. Wade smiles and hugs him back.

He’s browsing Buzzfeed when he stumbles upon it, and wonders whether Pete has heard of it. Sensory deprivation tanks! They’re these person-sized pods with some water at the bottom. You float in them and they’re dark and quiet. It sounds like something Pete might enjoy, so he looks up ones in New York. He then sends the Buzzfeed article to Pete, just to make sure that’s something he’d be interested in.

“So. Sensory deprivation tanks, amirite?” Wade says the next time he and Pete are together. 

“Yeah, they sound rad,” Pete responds wistfully. He’s sitting on the couch but not at all, laying down on the ground with his legs up on the seat of the couch. Wade is slouching down on the couch, totally manspreading.

“They have some here in New York.” 

“Damn, that’s so cool.” And then something must click. “You’re not suggesting we go there, are you? Because there’s no way I’d be able to pay for it.”

“I mean, _I_ won’t be entering one. And also I can pay for it.”

“No way. That’s too much.”

“You don’t even know how much it costs!”

“Uh, I know enough to know it’s not cheap.”

“Oh c’mon. Please? Think of it as an early birthday present then!” Wade can _see_ Pete’s internal struggle.

“Fine, fine. Let’s see when one’s available.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Hello hello!! As always it's been like 5ever but I'm back because of a Symbiote-Spideypool post! This one's been in the works for a loooooong time, and I think I'm finally gonna finish it today! I'm posting these chapters for now while I work on another (it's gonna be that one and maybe one more after idk yet), and I'll post as I finish. Hope you enjoy it so far! :-)
> 
> Also yes I am inserting my opinions (which are honestly straight up facts).


	3. Peter

This is weird, right? People usually pester other people for gifts, not to _not_ get a gift. But then again, Pete and his aunt have never been “people”. Not with her income. So Peter and Wade look at the dates and times available and find one that works. Wade sets a reminder on his phone, and makes an event that comes with its own reminder, and then makes Peter make an event on his phone, just to make sure they don’t forget. Peter also writes it down in his agenda, only half because of Wade’s persistence.

The day arrives and Peter’s nearly buzzing with anticipation. He can’t tell if he just feels like it’s been worse because he’ll get a break soon, or if it’s actually been worse. Either way, his tolerance for input from his surroundings has been smaller as of late. Wade picks the lock to his front door and strolls in.

“You know, I could always get you a key,” Peter says. Wade waves the suggestion away.

“Now where would be the fun in that?” But Peter makes a mental reminder to do that anyway, and another mental reminder to write it down somewhere later, lest he forget.

“Alright, you got everything Petes?” Peter nods. “Got your swim trunks just in case, and a face towel?” Another nod. “Oh! And you drank water but not too much, and you ate some food but not too much and you went to the bathroom and don’t need to go?” Another nod. “Oh fuck, should we check you for open wounds?”

“Wade, I’m fine,” Peter says with a laugh. “Stop mother henning.” 

“I just wanna make sure you have a good time.” And yes, now Peter can totally see that Wade’s stressed. He hasn’t even brought a baseball cap for himself, something he usually keeps on him when going out as a civilian. Peter softens and goes to Wade, taking his hands in his own. 

“Wade, you are so sweet. I’ll be okay, and I’ve brought everything the guide said I should bring. Okay? Don’t worry about it. Now let’s go take to the roofs so I can work off restless energy like they suggested.” 

Wade’s brought his suit too, so they leave the building and go change in an alleyway. This time, they keep their bags with them when they ascend, Wade carrying the bags so that Peter can carry him on his back. They drop the bags off by the ledge they climbed on from. 

“Wanna have a flipping contest?” Peter asks, turning to Wade. 

“Aww no fair Webs. You’re obviously gonna win.”

“Sounds like _some_ one’s a bit of a coward,” Peter teases, goading him. 

“Am _not_. Fine let’s do this, Bugboy.”

“Spiders aren’t bugs!”

“Yeah, but you’re tiny like one.” Peter narrows his eyes even though Wade wouldn’t be able to see and huffs. 

“Sounds like you’re itching for a fight instead of a flipping competition,” he shoots at Wade. 

“Naw, I’m just teasin’. Even though it _is_ true.” 

“You better run, bitchboy,” Peter says lowly. Wade takes off with a shriek and Peter allows him a headstart of a few seconds before following. 

The surrounding rooftops are pretty close together, so Wade doesn’t have too hard of a time jumping from one to the other. Somewhere along the chase, it changes from running to elaborate flips and leaps punctuated by whoops of exhilaration. Wade’s actually really skilled, his form really nice, and they’re pretty evenly matched. Eventually, they tire themselves out and Peter swings them at a leisurely pace back to the rooftop they started on. 

“45 minutes to, Petesy.” Peter hums in acknowledgement as they both change back into civvies. He sees Wade reach up to pat just air and then cock his head.

“Huh. I forgot a cap,” Wade says in wonderment. 

“Wanna go back and get one? We have time.” 

“Nah. Come on, let’s git.” Wade picks the lock to the roof stairs and locks the door again once they’re on the other side, descending the stairs stealthily. They make it all the way to the ground floor without running into anyone and casually stroll out the door to the nearest subway station. On the subway, Wade insists on Peter taking the open seat and him standing in front of Peter. Of course, Peter knows that once more people come in, he’ll definitely give up his seat for someone else, but at this moment, he’s fine with sitting. 

“Hey Wade,” he hisses a couple minutes into the ride. Wade looks down at him.

“Okay so what if I don’t like it? What if I go down in it and realise I actually fucking hate it and it’s awful? What does this pod have that the . . . . chamber doesn’t have?” Wade takes Peter’s hand and Peter immediately squeezes it. 

“If you don’t like it we can always leave. But maybe give it a few minutes first. And in the pod you’re floating, remember? You’ll feel weightless and there won’t be too much sensory feedback. I think it’ll help you, Pete. It seems like things have been worse than usual.” Okay. So Peter wasn’t the only who felt that way. He takes a deep breath and nods.

“‘Scuse me I don’t mean to eavesdrop, but are you talking about float tanks?” The person on Peter’s left turns to him and he nods. “Oh I’ve been in them before and they’re _great_ , in my opinion. I know some people have had bad experiences with them, but I think it really helped me. ‘Specially in this culture where we never really get a proper _break_ , y’know?” Peter nods sympathetically. He totally understands, and their assurance helps a lot.

“Thanks,” he says gratefully.

“‘Course! Hope you enjoy your first experience,” they respond with a smile.

They get off at the next stop with a wave and Peter waves back with his free hand. More people come in so Peter gets up as well. He tries and fails to reach the top support bar, so Wade pats his arm and Peter holds on. They both snicker.

Wade hustles them out at their stop and they go to the building that houses the float tanks 15 minutes early. They check in at the desk and then sit in the waiting area, reading the guide another time. 

“I think I’m gonna go in naked,” Peter decides.

“Yeah?”

“Yeah. I think it’ll help me achieve maximum float.” They go through his bag to make sure he has everything. 

“Okay let’s do some deep breathing,” Wade says, turning to face Peter and taking his hands. “In for 5 seconds and out for 9. In. Out. In. Out.” Wade taps the seconds with his left thumb and Peter can feel his shoulders loosening, his body calming down. 

Before he knows it, someone comes in and calls his name. He gathers up his things, Wade giving him a thumbs up, and follows the person. They lead him to a room with a shower, so he sets his things down on the bench and takes a quick but thorough one. They then lead him (with a robe on) to the room with the pod in it. It’s not what he’d expected. The Buzzfeed article had shown a futuristic-looking pod, but this one is like a shower cubicle at Tony’s place. 

“For first-timers, we like to give them a cabin-style pod, just so they don’t feel too closed in,” the person explains. He nods. “And remember, you can press the button to turn on the lights and you can leave at any time. Hope you have a good time! See you soon!” He puts the earplugs in and lays down, and they close the door once he’s settled. There’s still a blue light, and he remembers the guide said turning the light off prematurely could lead to panic, so he leaves it on. He sets the folded face towel over his eyes and tries to relax. Once he feels sufficiently relaxed, he reaches for the button and turns off the light. 

It’s a mistake. His mind immediately starts showing him images of all the horrors he’s faced, Uncle Ben dying, all the villains he’s fought. He groans internally. Of _course_ when he tries for once to fully relax, he fucks himself over. 

But then he remembers that Wade paid for this because he wanted Peter to have a good time and relax, and decides he’s not gonna let himself waste it. He starts doing the breathing technique Wade had done with him in the lobby, in for 5, out for 9. He focuses in on his breathing, only letting himself think _in, in, in, in, in, out, out, out, out, out, out, out, out, out_. The horrors slowly become less and less prevalent, and he’s relieved. 

He focuses on the way his body feels, how “float tank” is an apt name for it because he feels like he’s _floating_ in a way he’s only been able to feel while swinging. Except he’s not swinging, and his body doesn’t have to work at all. The epsom salt helps too. He can almost picture stress as a physical entity that’s leaving his body and floating away. That thought makes him smile. He relaxes and relaxes until he’s in that state right on the cusp of sleep. 

There’s a knock on the door and he takes off the face towel. The blue lights are back on. The door opens and a hand reaches in to give him the robe. It retreats once he takes the robe. He slowly gets up, steadying himself with a hand against the wall. He laughs to himself at the way his legs feel like jelly. When he’s ready, he knocks on the door and it opens. The person is there, along with Wade. He immediately reaches for Wade, who helps him out.

“How was it?” The person asks as they head back into the lobby. His brain feels . . . fuzzy? In a _real_ ly good way though.

“ _Fuck_. That felt like heaven,” he says dreamily.

“I’m glad! Your friend here paid while you were in there so you’re all set to go. Hope y’all have a good week!” The person sees them out the door.

“Thanks,” Wade says for the both of them. “You too!” Peter giggles once the door’s closed and Wade smiles down at him. 

“My legs feel like fuckin’ _jel_ ly, Wade.”

“Let’s hope there’s a seat open then, yeah?”

And luckily enough, when they get on the subway, there’s not _just_ one seat open. They both sit down, Peter on Wade’s left. He rests his head on Wade’s shoulder and Wade rests his head on top of Peter’s. Wade takes his hand, rubbing it soothingly with his thumb.

“I mighta fallen asleep in there, but I’m not sure,” Peter murmurs. “It was like that state where I _could_ a been asleep but I coulda been awake. Like my sense of time’s already fucky, but being in there, where I had no indicators of time at all? It was like, maybe I fell asleep at the end and that’s why it felt like no time had passed, or maybe I was just awake.” He feels Wade nod. A distant part of his mind notes that he just rambled a bit, but he’s done talking anyway, so he doesn’t give a fuck. 

“Did it live up to its name? Float tank?”

“Oh _yeah_. Felt like . . . uh, you know. Except I wasn’t doing any work at all!” Wade laughs softly and Peter smiles, eyes closing. “You’re gonna keep watch, right? Make sure we don’t miss our stop?” 

“‘Course.” 

“Okay,” Peter breathes. He might fall asleep now. 

He _does_ end up falling asleep, but Wade wakes him up at their stop. They’re closer to Wade’s place, he realises as he looks around on their walk above ground. His legs and body also feel back to normal now, but his brain’s fuzzy again, in the I-just-woke-up way. 

Back at Wade’s apartment, he has Peter sit down on the couch (which he does gladly) and goes into the kitchen. Peter curls up in a ball against one of the arms and hugs one of the couch pillows to his chest. He doesn’t fall asleep again, but he _does_ zone out staring at the other end of the couch. Distantly, he hears Wade in the kitchen. He’s definitely cooking, but Peter doesn’t know what. After a bit, the smell of Italian food drifts from the kitchen.

“Hey,” Wade says gently. He’s standing in front of Peter, no apron. He musta taken it off before coming. “Food’s ready.” Peter nods and tosses the pillow in front of him. Wade extends his hand and Peter takes it, getting up and following him to the dining room. 

He sits down and his eyes light up when he looks down at his plate. It’s fettuccine alfredo, except with shells instead of fettuccine. Fuckin’ _A_. He takes a bite and it tastes fuckin’ amazing. The smell’s also not overwhelming at all. It smells _good_. 

“Holy _shit_ Wade, this tastes so good. You’re a fuckin’ amazing chef.” First his body was in heaven and now his mouth and stomach are in heaven.

“Thanks.” Wade’s beaming.

“‘S true.” They eat the rest of their dinner in relative silence. 

When they’re done, they put their bowls in the sink. Wade says he’ll do them later, and they head to the couch. Peter waits for Wade to sit and then cuddles up to his side, holding his hand. Wade turns the t.v. on, volume low, and goes to Netflix. They decide to watch Molang because there’s not much talking and there’s not much drama. It’s just a cute, lighthearted show. 

“Anytime you’re craving a dish but not feeling up to going out, tell me, okay? I’ll make it for us,” Wade murmurs. Peter squeezes his hand in response and gets a squeeze back. 

“This has been the perfect day, Wade. Thank you.” 

“You’re welcome. I love you.” 

“Love you.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> \- ta-daaaa!! 
> 
> \- i've never actually been to a float tank myself, so it might not be wholly accurate! but i used [this](https://www.menshealth.com/health/a19547127/sensory-deprivation-tanks-flotation-therapy/) as reference. [here's](https://www.floattank.net/sensory-deprivation-experience/) the guide they reference, and here's buzzfeed articles [one](https://www.buzzfeed.com/bencoleman2/these-people-tried-a-sensory-deprivation-tank-for-the-first) and [two](https://www.buzzfeed.com/alexzakon/sensory-deprivation-tanks)!
> 
> \- personal space whO??? one of my faves, thts just how we Sit. except for the rare occasion at their dorm when it's just our legs touching, but even then it always turns into our bodies melding together. also holding hands is fucking AMAZING!!! i hope tht if u like it u hv someone or some ppl tht hold ur hand :-)
> 
> \- their relationship is ambiguous! u get to decide wht u see them as
> 
> \- i hope u liked this as much as i liked writing it!! happy holidays to all who celebrate them!


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